


Moving in together

by madhatt



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4699415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madhatt/pseuds/madhatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skids is about to move in with Swerve. But before he does, first they need to sort through all the stuff gathered in the room. And their unexpected feelings for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving in together

**Author's Note:**

> For [ilaney](http://ilaney.tumblr.com/) . She wanted a Skids/Swerve fic, the prompt was: “This is a situation that requires tact and finesse. Fortunately, I am blessed with both.”

Moving in with Swerve wasn't half as easy as Skids would have expected, when he had first suggested the solution. It wasn't that Swerve was a bad roommate – actually he wasn't sure about that yet, he was just moving in – but the sole job of fitting two mechs in their adult frames into the space previously occupied by one, was certainly a challenge. Over the previous cycles, not really noticing it, Swerve let his possessions crawl all over the room, now seizing two berths, all the possible shelves and most of the floor. Now they had to somehow fit Skids in there, too.

“It'll probably take some time to clean all the mess in my room,” said Swerve uncertainly as they had earlier discussed Skids moving in with him. The minibot obviously wanted Skids' companionship, but at the same time was reluctant to take this step, no matter how mundane it would seem. The nervous twirling of his fingers, as well as the alternating dimming and brightening of his visor were proof enough.

“You don't have to do it alone, you know?” said Skids.

“I... No... I mean...” Swerve had to reset his vocalizer and try again. “There's a lot of private things to sort through,” he managed to say finally.

“So obviously this is a situation that requires tact and finesse. Fortunately, I am blessed with both,” said Skids with a grin and it was decided.

That's how they had ended up cleaning Swerve's (or rather their) room. Despite his earlier words, Swerve was absolutely sure there wasn't anything embarrassing or private Skids could stumble upon. Swerve had probably hidden anything that would cause him any unease when he had locked himself inside his room for a few clicks before finally letting Skids in some time earlier. That's why, without any further ado, Skids dived in and decided to simply enjoy this perfect occasion to bond with his friend.

A friend that took him in when he didn't know where he belonged to, was the constant chatter that filled the silence of his lost memories and readily shared his own experiences, both those real and made up, when Skids had none to turn to. And still Skids hadn't managed to repay him with the same kindness, the same love and support, when Swerve himself needed help. Skids felt his spark break whenever he thought about it, how much he let down the only mech that mattered to him right now. How disappointing his friendship proved to be. It hang over him, this horrible guilt, but whenever he felt yet another wave of it hitting his processor, he reminded himself he wasn't the one suffering the consequences of that and quickly turned his attention to Swerve.

Who was at the moment half under the bed, obviously trying to reach something, his stocky legs, kicking wildly, the only part of him visible.

“You don't have to clean there, I'm fairly sure I won't need that space,” said Skids, snickering.

“Very funny.” Swerve's voice was muffled, but Skids heard him just fine. “I think there should be one more shelf in there we could use, I just lost it somewhere...” The last few words were muttered angrily.

“Maybe it's hidden in here,” said Skids to himself, snickering a little, as he turned to what from that moment onward was supposed to be his berth. It only needed to be first dug out from under whatever trinkets and belongings Swerve managed to gather there. Skids began at the top. There were half empty boxes of rust sticks, at least half a dozen of them, data pads with different novels – most of them adventure, no horrors, Skids was sure – an unopened model of a spaceship (A present from Rung? Or maybe for Rung?) and a collectible figure of Blurr, among many others. The last thing Skids remembered to have been always standing on the shelf right next to Swerve's berth.

“Not much of a Blurr fan anymore?”asked Skids, turning around to face Swerve. He was not under the berth anymore.

The light of Swerve's visor dimmed at the question and his shoulders slumped. “I... We had a fight, I'm angry with him right now,” he said finally. Skids decided not to call him out on his lie. Instead he put a hand on Swerve's arm and squeezed it reassuringly.

“It doesn't matter. You don't need Blurr when you've got friends here on the Lost Light,” he said. Then he added a little more quietly, “When you've got me.”

Swerve looked at him, his visor gleaming brightly again. His plates pulled in close to his protoform, then flared, releasing hot air. He was embarrassed. “There are not that many friends of mine onboard,” he said and laughed nervously. But then, before Skids could reply in any way, deny Swerve's self depreciating words, the minibot smiled shyly and put his hand on Skids' servos, squeezing them lightly. “I know I've got you though.”

Before he could stop himself, not that he would try to do that very hard, Skids pulled Swerve close and wrapped him in a tight hug. He felt it against his own frame, as Swerve first tensed minutely, only to relax just a click later. Stubby servos dug into his sides, holding him close. He answered with a content rev of his engines and then kissed Swerve on the white kibble over his helm. In this position he couldn't see Swerve's face, but from the content hum of the other's mechanics, he was fairly sure, the minibot enjoyed the attention.

They stayed like this for a while. It was somehow unusual, to spend time with Swerve in complete silence, and although it was nice for now, Skids didn't want it to become a norm. He wanted to listen to this well-known chatter forever.

Swerve seemed to sense that, or maybe he was simply done with being silent. “Not that this isn't nice and all, but maybe we should move. I mean, we do have to make room for you to move in,” he said, then looked at the mess on the berth. “Find the berth, so you can recharge somewhere...” He made to step away, but Skids' hands were still around his stocky form.

“Well, I can always recharge with you,” joked Skids. Or rather hoped it sounded like a joke.

“Very funny,” said Swerve and laughed, though it did seem a little nervous. He also looked rather flushed, Skids noticed and this realization caused his own plating to tingle pleasantly.

“Alright, let's get to it,” said Skids finally, taking pity on them both and ending the nervous, but curious glances they kept giving each other. He also let Swerve go, and moved back to the berth. This time Swerve joined him.

“Oh, I've forgotten to give this ship to Rung,” said Swerve.

“You can do that later today, in the bar,” replied Skids, looking through the stuff on the berth once again. He was faced with silence, which made him look at Swerve. The minibot was visibly uncomfortable. Finally he spoke.

“N-no, I have to check first, maybe he's already got this one,” stammered Swerve. “Besides, it's so awkward, there's no reason for me to give him that. It's such a stupid idea, oh Primus, why did I even think of that?” Swerve's engines were groaning louder and louder as he continued speaking, and Skids thought it would be better to interrupt while he was still able to vent.

“First of, you can give presents to your friends without any good reason, just because you want to. Also I bet Rung's going to love the gesture, even if he has five of those lying around.” Skids patted Swerve's shoulder reassuringly. The minibot looked a little less tense, but still not entirely convinced. Skids couldn't really blame him though – he was certain the model of the ship first appeared in the room soon after the whole mess with Fortress Maximus and shooting Rung's head off. So Skids looked around, searching for a reason to change the topic. And hopefully lighten the mood.

“Um... What's that?” asked Skids, pointing to one of the datapads lying on the berth, the one that looked the most used, with scratches and dents all over it. It was a bad choice, something he realized as soon as he took it in hand and switched it on.

Swerve's reaction was immediate. “T-that's... Don't look at it!” But it was too late. Skids had already looked. And he was surprised. But not unpleasantly so. He stared at the datapad and his own optics stared back at him – the datapad was filled with stills of Skids, captured all over the Lost Light. A quick search showed Skids himself drinking at the bar, reading in one of the recreation rooms, looking at the computer screen during one of his shifts, even dozing off in the med bay's waiting room...

“That's... me.”Skids cringed inwardly at how surprised he sounded. “Why there's so much me?” He looked at Swerve, hoping for some answers.

Swerve didn't need to voice them thought. They were all there, reflecting in the visor that was flickering with panic, embarrassment and... love.

Suddenly everything made sense.

Skids wasn't sure how it happened, but one moment he was standing there, holding a datapad in his hands and considering the worried look on Swerve's face, and the next he had the minibot's lips crushed against his, in a hungry kiss.

He was a mech starving, that hadn't realized his own hunger until he smelled the energon. And what a sweet meal it was – Skids moaned as he felt Swerve's lips moving slowly, but surely against his, creating the sweetest friction a mech could dream of.

“So it seems we don't need to clean this bed anymore,” whispered Skids against the other's lips.

“Oh? Aren't you a little presumptuous?” Swerve giggled.

Skids waved the datapad in front of Swerve's face and grinned. “I don't think I am.”

Swerve let out the cutest squeak of embarrassment Skids had the pleasure to hear. “I... I guess,” he said, then quickly added, “You don't think it's weird?”

“It is weird. And a little creepy,” answered Skids. Then, before Swerve could voice his displeasure, he leaned down and whispered. “But it's my kind of creepy.”

Swerve's vocalizer sputtered as Skids promptly squeezed his aft in both hands. “Skids!”

“Yes?”

"Nothing.”

Skids was sure it was something. But they could talk about it later. Right after he kissed Swerve again.

And again.

 


End file.
